


I'm Not Human At All

by nostalgic90s



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Biting, Blood and Injury, Gang Rape, Hair-pulling, Hallucinations, Head Injury, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, no happy endings here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgic90s/pseuds/nostalgic90s
Summary: "The toxin his father injected him with overloaded Jonathan's fear response. His mind created a sort of boogeyman figure, now it haunts him. I find it very useful for controlling him." -Warden Reed. (( Gotham Season 4, Episode 1))I expanded on that quote, in twisted, sort of demented way.





	I'm Not Human At All

**_It's not your fault_ **

**_It's my own fault_ **

**_I'm not human at all_ **

**_I have no heart_ **

**_We're not human at all_ **

**_We have no heart_ **

[I'm Not Human At All](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFUzvbkEvRk) by Sleep Party People

* * *

 

Having been ushered into a familiar office, Jonathan did a sweep of the room and notices it’s empty. That’s odd, he expected the psychiatrist to be present. He turns his hazel-blue eyes on the warden and asks, “Where’s Dr. Quinzel?”

A much older man has his back to Jonathan while he fumbles with the keys, ignoring the question.

Something doesn’t feel right. His normal sessions with Dr. Quinzel are in the afternoons, always on a Tuesday or Friday. It’s late right now, close to 10:00pm and panic grips his heart, sending goosebumps across his body. Jonathan curls his fingers into the black and white stripped t-shirt, slowly backing away until his body came in contact with a desk. “Why did you bring me here?”

Reed huffs out an irritated breath and struggles to locate the right key. So many goddamn keys, it was a nuisance.

“It’s the big, square one.”

The deep voice startles Jonathan and he whips around on his heels, facing the corner of the office.

A lamp clicks on, illuminating the dark office.

Jonathan recognizes the male orderly. “C-Coilin?”

The husky man steps forward and smiles over at the underage inmate. “Mr. Crane, always a pleasure to see you.”

Whenever Jonathan crosses paths with Coilin, he imagines a wolf. Even though he’s never seen a wolf up close before, that’s what Coilin reminds him of; his shaggy black beard, messy raven curls, and striking green eyes hid the monster underneath his skin. He suspects the smile is anything but friendly, and it makes his stomach twist into painful knots.

“Ah, finally.” Reed turns the key and the lock clicks in place. He tucks the keys in his breast pocket and addresses the teenager. “Remove your clothes.”

“What?!” Jonathan’s eyes go wide like saucers and he looks at the orderly for help.

Coilin crosses his large arms over his robust chest, a knowing leer on his face.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Reed starts loosening his tie.

Jonathan looks at the warden, while his hands reach behind, groping at the desktop for an object that could be used as a weapon. “You told me I had a late therapy session.”

“Oh, but you _do_.” Reed slips his tie off and dangles it from his fingers, “Think of it as alternative therapy.”

Jonathan scoffs and his hands locate a metal stapler.

Coilin remains alert, eyes hovering on the stapler in Jonathan’s hand.

“Jonathan,” Reed sighs impatiently. “I only have your best interests at heart.” The elder raises his left hand and glances at the wristwatch. After checking the time, he turns his brown eyes on Jonathan and feigns concern for the boy. “You’re still seeing _it_ , aren’t you?”

The mention of that hellish fiend drains the color from Jonathan’s face; he goes chalk-white and his mouth gapes open slightly.  His heart starts racing faster and he looked around the room, as though anticipating _its_ arrival.

Jonathan’s reaction earns a smirk from the warden. “If you listen, I can guarantee it won’t bother you anymore.”

Adrenaline pumping in his veins, Jonathan gazes at the older man with a receding hairline. He was almost certain he heard that line before… But for the life of him he can’t remember when or where, maybe he dreamt it.

The teenager is willing to do anything to rid himself of the monster plaguing his life.

Trembling hands grip his Arkham issued t-shirt, only to peel it off over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Next, he takes hold of his striped pants and hesitantly pushes them down to his ankles. He steps out of his black slip-on shoes and pants, dawning just a pair of boxer briefs now.

“Everything,” said Reed.

Coilin watches Jonathan with hungry eyes but like a patient wolf, he waits; he knows Reed is better at manipulating the kid.

“Okay…” Jonathan keeps his head down, embarrassed by the exposure and vulnerability he was feeling. He pulls his briefs down and steps out of those too. “W-what does the alternative therapy involve?”

Reed moves right up to Jonathan and the advancement made the teen back away until he was pinned against the desk. Gripping the tie in his left hand, the warden raised his right hand and affectionately stroked Jonathan’s long brunette locks.

Jonathan flinches against the touch but that doesn’t stop Reed from brushing his fingers down the teenager’s face and neck.

“So young and troubled,” Reed purrs, “Honestly we’re doing you a favor here Jonathan. Do you know how many times you could’ve been raped? Oh yes, I’ve had to fire several orderlies and security guards because of you.”

“R-rape? What the hell are you talking about?!” Jonathan’s voice is on edge. Therapy be damned, he wasn’t comfortable with any of this. “I’VE CHANGED MY MIND!” He shouts, attempting to shove the warden away.

Without warning, Reed grabbed Jonathan by his arms and threw him against the desk.

Jonathan lets out a yelp when his back collided against the desktop, the stapler smashed into his lower back. The teenager can’t feel the ground anymore and fumbles to grab something – anything- to hit Reed with. His fingers curl around a ceramic mug stuffed with pens but before he could sit up, two strong arms press down on his shoulders.

Coilin pins Jonathan against the desk, while Reed grabs the ceramic mug and yanks it out of the boy’s grip. It falls to the floor, spewing pens everywhere.

“For such a pretty little thing, you’re a pain in the ass,” Reed comments.

The orderly hums, seemingly in agreement.

There’s enough distance between them for Jonathan to raise his legs and kick the warden in the chest.

The blow came as a surprise and Reed gasps, the attack knocks the wind right out of him. He staggers backwards, clutching his gut with both arms. “Fuck!” Reed gave Coilin a certain look, earning a nod from the orderly.

Coilin grips Jonathan by his arms and forcefully turns the brunette over onto his stomach. Then he pulls the struggling teenager further up, so his hips are at the edge of the desk and his legs dangle over.

Jonathan was close enough to open his mouth and bite down on Coilin’s left forearm, and he bit HARD.

“AHHH!” Coilin bellowed out his pain before gripping a fistful of Jonathan’s hair and jerking on it.

When Jonathan didn’t dislodge, Reed moves forward to grab the teenager by his legs. He pushes them apart and settles in the gap left behind. He proceeded to rub his clothed erection against Jonathan’s ass and as a result, Jonathan unlatches.

Unaware of the blood staining his tongue and teeth, Jonathan screams: “SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!! I’M IN HERE! DR. QUINZEL’S OFFICE!!!”

“ENOUGH!” hisses Reed.

Once again Coilin took hold of Jonathan’s hair and he slams the kid’s head against the desktop.

It’s enough to cut off Jonathan’s voice and he blinks; the assault dazes him.

Still pissed about the painful bite, Coilin slams Jonathan into the desk again but this time he made Jonathan face the desktop.

Mahogany wood and bone crash into each other.

A sickening pop ensues.

Blinding. White. Pain. So crippling in fact, Jonathan slips into a state of unconsciousness.

“Was that _really_ necessary?” Reed asks in an irritated voice.

“Little shit had it coming,” Coilin grumbles. He leans down and gently turns Jonathan’s head, so that his right cheekbone is pressing against the desktop. He examines the teenager’s nose and it looks intact, although, blood seeps out of one nostril. He pushes his fingers into Jonathan’s mouth and tugs down to get a look at his teeth; he has to make sure there isn’t too much damage, or else a lengthy explanation will be required. “Bloody nose, isn’t broken but it looks like he bit down on his tongue.”

“People do that all the time in their sleep,” he said dismissively. Reed unbuttons his suit jacket and sheds it off, tossing it over a chair. “We’ve got 20 minutes left, make it count.”

“Okay.” Coilin nods, retracts his fingers, and walks around the desk.

Reed does the same and switches spots with the orderly. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small glass bottle. He untwists the cap, paying no attention to Coilin, who strips his pants off and starts stroking himself, working his cock into a full erection.

“Don’t forget to wrap it up,” Reed comments.

“Yeah, yeah.” Coilin grabs his scrubs and retrieves a condom from the pants pocket. He removes the plastic casing and positions the condom against the tip, rolling it down his shaft afterwards.

Meanwhile, Reed held the bottle of smelling salts underneath Jonathan’s nose.

It takes a minute to work, due to the bloody nose. Once that sharp, acidic smell registered in his brain, Jonathan awoke with a jolt. Eyelids fluttering, he tries to look around but the pain in his head prevents him from doing so. He groans in misery and could only stare off to the side; he saw the lamp in the corner of the room, with an unusually large bucket right next to it.

Coilin places his hands on Jonathan’s butt-cheeks, spreading them open to expose his entrance.

Jonathan twitches against the desk and he lets out a feeble whimper. His head was hurting so much right now, the room is spinning, and he can’t see clearly.

“Oooh would you look at that?” Coilin’s lustful voice floods Jonathan with nausea. The orderly purses his lips together and spits on Jonathan’s tight hole. He did this a few times before spitting on his hand and slicking his cock up.

The sounds are revolting and Jonathan gags, like he’s going to vomit.

“Shhhh, it’ll be over soon my boy~” Reed lovingly strokes Jonathan’s face and after a moment, he caps the smelling salts and sets it aside. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, tugging them down far enough to release his throbbing arousal.

Jonathan doesn’t react. He’s scared to death, but, his mind already pieces everything together – lying to him, locking him in a secluded office, stripping his clothes, the spitting sounds, a belt buckle coming undone… Something very bad was about to happen and Jonathan wasn’t sure if he could stay conscious during it all.

With their limited time slot, Coilin doesn’t have time to properly prep Jonathan, however, he doesn’t feel any sympathy at all – the stupid kid took a bite out of his arm, so Coilin would show no mercy. The orderly presses his hips against Jonathan’s ass, poking and prodding his head against the teenager’s warm hole.

“P-please…. don’t do this,” Jonathan whispers urgently, the fear evident in his pleading eyes.

Reed jerks himself off, while petting Jonathan’s soft brown hair with the other hand. “Try to relax, we wouldn’t want any tearing, would we?”

Before Jonathan can register the words, Coilin bucks his hips forward, plunging his cock into the boy’s tight heat.

For the love of God, the pain – it’s _too_ much for him to handle. Jonathan tries to get away, and he flails around, knocking over a computer screen monitor and various desk items. His back arches but NOT because of pleasure but because of the unbearable pain ripping his spine apart and setting fire to every nerve inside his body. He opens his mouth and lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Reed seizes the opportunity by grabbing Jonathan by his hair and holding him in place. The warden shoves his cock into Jonathan’s pretty, pink mouth, and silences him.

Coilin didn’t dare waste any more precious time. He keeps a firm grip on Jonathan’s hips and pounds into the boy repeatedly, although, it doesn’t seem to get any easier. On instinct, Jonathan clenches down to keep the foreign invader out. This makes the orderly whine softly, letting out a little cry of, "Fffuck!”

Jonathan gags on the warden’s cock just like the other man, Reed is merciless.

With each hand gripping a fistful of Jonathan’s hair, Reed began to thrust into the boy’s mouth. Every time he slams into Jonathan, he feels his cock hitting the back of the teenager’s throat. Those warm, wet walls constrict around his length as Jonathan chokes on air, saliva, and the warden’s pre-cum.

It’s almost as if Jonathan’s brain is shutting down out of fear. He begins to zone out, his body going lax against the two men.

He doesn’t have to do anything. Just…. exist for a little while.

Yes, he’ll exist for now and never revisit this time in his life.

Like a machine, Jonathan switches over to autopilot and everything goes dark; his mind shuts off, as does the rest of is body. His eyes may be open, but he isn’t present, in fact, the physical pain becomes tolerable – almost.

_Exist. That’s all you have to do._

Reed was the first to reach his climax. His hips stutter and he moans in ecstasy, ejaculating inside the boy’s throat.

Jonathan shuddered slightly, eyes watering up when he felt hot liquid coating his tongue and throat; some of it dribbled out of his mouth. It tastes disgusting, Jonathan can’t even begin to describe the revulsion he felt.

Coilin didn’t last much longer. His orgasm hit him fast and he desperately slams his hips into Jonathan’s, riding out each and every little shudder, coming hard inside the teenager; it’s a shame he had to use protection, he’d give anything to fuck Jonathan raw.

“Such a good boy~” The warden praises, gently fluffing up Jonathan’s brunette locks. He gradually withdrew his hips and tucks himself back inside his pants.

Jonathan’s glossy-eyed expression never changes, and he doesn’t bother to respond verbally.

Coilin slowly pulls out and that's when he saw a red stain on the condom. “Shit, I think I did tear something.”

“Hmm, I’ll ask one of the doctors to prescribe pain medication and cream, he’ll be fine,” Reed says, while fastening his belt.

“Oh, okay.” Coilin slips the condom off and tosses it in a nearby trashcan.

After tucking his shirt back inside his pants, Reed walks around the desk and grabs his suit jacket off the chair. “I need to go make a phone call, you okay with cleanup?”

Coilin rolls his eyes, “Yeah I guess.”

“Good.” Reed pulls out his keys and unlocks the office door. He peeks out in the hallway to make sure it’s clear, “You have 10 minutes left, so get to it.” The warden exists the room and closes the door behind himself.

“Phone call my ass, lazy prick.” Coilin puts his pants back on and pauses when the other male moves.

The teenager curls up on his side, mirroring the fetal position. He hugs his knees to his chest, his body trembling. He’s sobbing quietly, lips quivering as the occasional moan emanated from his aching throat.

Coilin glances at the trail of blood leaking out of Jonathan’s butt, then he looks over at the bucket stuffed with cleaning supplies. The orderly heaves out a heavy sigh.

 

* * *

 

“Warden?”

Reed leans over his desk and presses a button on his phone to activate the speaker, “Yes Darla?”

“Detective Jim Gordon is here and he’s requesting a visit with Jonathan Crane.”

For a second Reed freezes up with panic. He thought the investigation was over months ago… Why the hell was Gordon here? Did somebody tip him off about Jonathan’s care at Arkham? Shit. He presses the button again, “Tell him I’ll be down in 15 minutes.”

“Yes Sir,” Darla ended the call.

Reed inhales and exhales a deep breath, reminding himself to calm down. There was nothing to worry about, Jonathan had a shock therapy session earlier today and it ALWAYS had an adverse effect on the teenager’s short-term memories.

 

* * *

 

Jim Gordon and Jonathan Crane are seated in a small interview room with sound-proof glass, however, all visitations are recorded by video camera.

The warden stands off to the side, while Jim and Jonathan sit across from each other at a rectangular shaped table.

“How are you Jonathan?” Jim asks.

Jonathan fidgets with his hands and his eyes dart around the room like he’s paranoid. “Quiet. Have to be quiet.”

“Hmm?” Jim quirks an eyebrow, “Why do you have to be quiet?”

The teenager leans forward in his seat, his expression riddled with apprehension. He points a shaking finger towards the ceiling, “They’re listening.”

“Who’s listening?” For the past few days, Jim struggled with the decision of paying Jonathan a visit at Arkham Asylum.  Ever since that night at the hospital, Jim couldn’t get the kid’s terrified screams out of his head. He was banking on the court to send Jonathan to an asylum that catered to juveniles, however, Jonathan’s involvement with his father’s string or murders landed him in Arkham – a place that was ill-equipped to treat minors. He felt bad for the teenager, truly he did, but he would be lying if he said he came to Arkham solely out of concern – no, this trip was for him, he wanted to feel better about himself by checking up on Jonathan Crane.

Jonathan sporadically flinches, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the detective. He drops his voice to a hushed whisper, “The birds. Those awful, black, hellions, they have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“I see… Okay, I’ll keep my voice down.” Jim’s blue eyes travel to the side of Jonathan’s head, where a small patch of hair was missing; it looked like it had been scorched off. That wasn’t the only concerning detail, the kid had a large bruise on his face that stretched across his nose and cheeks. He was almost tempted to report his findings to the GCPD commissioner and push for an investigation. “Jonathan?”

Hazel-blue eyes meet Jim’s concerned gaze.

“Do you know my name?”

Jonathan pauses for a short time, then mutters “Yes. You are Jim Gordon.”

“That’s right, I’m Jim Gordon. Do you know who I am? What I do for a living?”

This time Jonathan has difficulty in coming up with an answer. He pushes his right thumb into his mouth and nibbles on the fingernail, mumbling “You are the one who brought me here.”

“I did, and Harvey Bullock was with me when we transferred you from the hospital.” Jim leans forward in his set and rests his elbows on the table. He twiddles his thumbs and addresses the injuries. “Jonathan, who gave you that bruise on your face?”

“Let me answer that one!” Reed chimes in. He moves over to the detective’s left side and motions to Jonathan with a head tilt. “The bruise is a result of a sleepwalking incident that took place the other night. We try not to restrain our patients at night because they deserve a good, comfortable rest but Jonathan here, well I’m sure you’re aware of his condition, tends to see things that are not there. These hallucinations are so vivid and real for the boy that he’ll often fight off invisible monsters, resulting in accidents, such as the bruise on his face.”

Jim looks up at Reed, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. It’s true, Jim was aware of Jonathan’s condition, a condition brought on by Gerald Crane’s fear serum. “Sounds credible enough, what about the singed hair?”

“Ah, an unfortunate side-effect of his shock therapy.”

“ _Shock_ therapy?” Jim frowns slightly, “Why the hell are you shocking a minor? How could that possibly be beneficial?”

The warden went on a long, dubious ramble about alternative medicine and treatments.

Meanwhile, Jonathan tunes out the conversation and looks around the room.

A dark figure shifted in the corner of the room.

Jonathan’s heart flutters and he holds his breath, focusing intently on the shadowy figure.

The ethereal being stepped out of the shadows and it turned its soulless eyes on Jonathan.

“N-no…” Jonathan gasps.

It was Scarecrow.

Scarecrow found him.

The creature opens its mouth and lets out a spine-chilling roar.

“NOOOOO!!!!” Jonathan leaps out of his chair so fast that he knocks it over on the floor. He backs up against the wall, desperately shaking his head and crying hot tears. “LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

The outrageous behavior shocks both Jim and Reed.

“Jonathan? Hey, it’s not real buddy.” Jim stands up and raises his hands, attempting to calm the minor. “You’re safe, no one is going hurt you.”

“Safe?” Jonathan sniffles, “Nowhere is safe.”

Scarecrow made a lunge at Jonathan.

“AHHHH!” Jonathan dives underneath the table to avoid being captured. He crawls past Jim and tries to make a run for the door.

Reed is faster than the boy. He slams his fist on the intercom button and yells “CODE BLUE!”  

Jonathan pushes the warden out of the way, and he latches onto the door handle with both hands. He tries to open the door but to no avail; it’s locked. Panic rises and Jonathan pounds his fists against the metal door, “LET ME OUT!!! HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!!!”

Jim is at a loss for words. He glances at Reed, who calmly raises a finger and mouths the word ‘Wait’.

A buzzer sounds and the metal door unlocks.

Jonathan rips the door open and comes face-to-face with two male orderlies. They grab the distraught teenager by his arms and keep him in place. By then Jonathan is sobbing and shaking violently, “No, no, no he’s here! Can’t you see him?!”

“Everything is going to be fine Jonathan,” said a woman’s voice. A certified nurse walked up to the thrashing teenager with a syringe in hand.

“Please help me,” Jonathan begs.

“I will, now please hold still.” The nurse unceremoniously stabs the syringe into the right side of Jonathan’s neck, drawing out a whimper from the boy.

After injecting Jonathan with a sedative, the nurse removes the needle from his neck. She steps aside and waves over another orderly, “Wheelchair please.”  

An older, female orderly pushed a wheelchair over to the group. The nurse thanks her and instructs the male orderlies to position Jonathan in the chair. They do so.

Seated in the wheelchair, Jonathan’s head lulled back and forth. He felt immensely tired, but fear had him struggling to stay awake – it was as if he were intoxicated.

“See what I mean?” Reed said, amused and happy about the timing of Jonathan’s manic episode.  

Jim shot the warden a serious look that wiped the smile off Reed’s face. “No more shock therapy, stick to the sedatives.”

Reed opens his mouth but Jim walks out of the interview room before he can utter a single word.

Jim pauses by Jonathan and the nurse. He crouches down until he’s eye-level with the teenager. “Hey kid, I’m sorry…. For everything. Coming here was my mistake, I won’t upset you anymore.”

Everything is hazy and Jim’s voice sounds far away, too far for Jonathan to comprehend. He closes his eyes and leans to the right side of the wheelchair. “He made me… made me help him… Gerald… fear toxin…”

“Yeah, I know.” Jim stands and he places his hand on Jonathan’s right shoulder, giving it reassuring squeeze. “Take care of yourself Jonathan.”

Jonathan mumbles incoherent words, completely unaware of Jim’s presence.

The detective leaves.

The orderlies escort Jonathan back to his cell.

Coilin caught word of Jim Gordon’s visit with Jonathan Crane. He catches the warden in his office right before lunch break. He knocks on the door, hears the invite, and steps into Reed’s office.

“Oh, Coilin. What can I do for you?” Reed asks, while skimming through a list of upcoming transfers.

“I uh, heard about the detective stopping in today, the one that killed Gerald Crane?”

Reed pauses and looks up from his desk. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” Coilin shrugs. “Guess I was kind of worried.”

“About what?” Reed sets the list down.

“The kid…. Aren’t you afraid he’s going to tell someone about… Us?”

The warden laughs. “HAHA! What an absurd thing to worry about.” He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, a confident smirk ruling over his face. “Even IF Jonathan Crane were to consult someone about his _care_ here at the facility, do you really think anyone would believe him? He’s a raving lunatic who suffers from severe formidophobia. Anything he says can and will be dismissed in a court of law. Come on Coilin, I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Right, right, okay… Well, thanks for clearing it up.” Coilin turns to leave, until Reed calls out for him.

“Hang on.”

Coilin stops and turns back around.

Reed moves around his desk and carries a green folder over. He held it out to the orderly, “We have a new transfer coming in this evening. I’ll need you to meet with the officers and get the boy situated, give him a tour while you’re at it.”

“Boy?” Coilin took the folder.

“Yes, he recently celebrated his 18th birthday, hence the transfer.” Reed walks back to his desk.

“I see. Alright, I’ll handle the intake process.” The orderly steps out the door-

“Oh, and Coilin?”

Exhaling an irritated sigh, Coilin pokes his head back into the warden’s office. “Yeah?”

Reed is grinning, but it’s not out of good nature. “Do you still have a thing for redheads?”

The question prompts a raised eyebrow, “Uh… yeah I guess so. Whys that?”

“Mmm, you might like this one.” Reed picks up his list again, “But I’d exercise caution, I heard he’s prone to violence.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by another writer's horrific (but amazing) story and wanted to create one of my own.
> 
> If you give the song a listen, I believe it sets the whole mood and atmosphere for the story. Questions? Comments? Leave them down below. My intention is to leave this as a one-shot xD But every time I say that, I end up adding additional chapters. Guess I'll wait and see.


End file.
